"Get Geordi here, now!" Beverly ordered to someone on her staff.

Worf shook his head out and found himself still hovered above Data, his hands pressing around the sword still protruding from his torso. He was covered in golden coolant; his hands and arms sticky with it. But he wouldn't let go for the world.

"Data?" Beverly said, replacing Deanna on the opposite side of the android. "We're going to have to take you into surgery immediately."

"Yes, doctor," Data whispered.

In the bright light of sickbay, Worf could see the bright shade of yellow that his tears had stained his face. But now, at least, he wore a gentle smile.

Beverly smiled down at him, too. Ran a motherly hand through his hair. "You're going to be alright. I'm going to give you something to help you stay in your dream program throughout the procedure, okay?"

"Wait," Data called. "Can we wait until Geordi arrives? I wish to see him."

Beverly swallowed hard. Nodded her assent. For all her words, she didn't know how this would turn out.

And anyway, they didn't have long to wait. Geordi came practically sprinting into sickbay a moment later, engineering toolkit in hand. He faltered when he saw Data. Then crouched on the floor beside Beverly.

"Hey buddy." He squeezed Data's hand firmly. "I'm here."

"Geor-" Data tripped over the word; swallowed and then restarted. "Geordi."

"You're gonna be fine, Data."

Geordi looked up at Worf, and Worf knew that the engineer was as unsure as he was. The injury looked worse than ever, here in the light. The sword had cut a jagged tear into his uniform, a uniform that was now covered in a growing polygon of sticky coolant.

"We're gonna be right here when you wake up," Geordi assured.

He looked to Beverly, who administered her concoction to Data's neck. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, and his hand fell limply out of Geordi's grasp.

"Let's get him to the operating room," Beverly said, after they'd all taken a silent moment to stare at Data's still, sleeping form.

. . . . . .

Worf sat on the bench outside of the operating room and twiddled his thumbs. Wrung his hands together. Tried to piece together the absolute disaster of a mission it had been. Why had they been there in the first place? He couldn't even remember.

Deanna was next to him, just the two of them sitting in silence. She hadn't commented on the coolant still stuck to his hands, or the tear in his uniform where he'd been hit in the scuffle.

"I remember sitting on a bench just like this, with Alexander," Deanna said suddenly. "While you were having your surgery."

Worf did not respond to that, only because he didn't know what to say. That was not a time he liked to think about: he'd been short tempered, lashing out at people he cared about. But suddenly he wanted to see his son.

As if by fate, Will came along a moment later holding the hand of the young Klingon. Alexander looked hesitant. But when he saw Worf, he ran to him.

"Father!" He cried, hugging Worf around the middle.

Worf pulled him up onto the bench, between himself and Deanna.

"Father, is it true that you saved Mr. Data?"

Worf turned away. Down to the coolant stuck to his fingers. His mind rushed to the image of the sword; Data's tears; his shaky voice.

"I...did what I could to help him."

Deanna gave Worf a look, and then turned to Alexander.

"Your father carried Mr. Data through a blizzard to make sure he was safe." She and Will shared a small smile. "We've missed having you both around."

"I miss you, too," Alexander said with a smile.

Worf forced his own smile. But his thoughts were elsewhere: on the surgical table, where Data's fate was still unclear. As much as the others wanted to ignore it, there was still a long way to go before Data could really be called 'alright' or 'saved'.

. . . . . .

"Damn it!" Beverly cursed, suctioning yet more of the coolant flowing out of Data's torso.

They'd been working for half an hour now; had removed the sword, fixed some of the damage. But still they weren't out of the woods. It seemed like they hadn't even found the path out yet.

"We're gonna need more ice packs," said Geordi, working up near Data's head. When the nurse passed him one, he held it against Data's burning neck. Massaged his hair as he did so, more as a comfort to himself than the sleeping android.

Beverly wiped her face in the arm of her jacket. Thought over the situation again. Looked at Data, blissfully unaware of how precarious his condition was.

"Replicate more coolant," she ordered one of the technicians. "I'm going to set up a transfusion."

Geordi straightened up. Shined his blue eyes in her direction.

"I've never done that with him before."

Beverly shook her head. Eyed the frantic monitors telling her that her patient was nearly coding, or whatever the android equivalent was.

"It's the only chance we've got," she stated. "He's lost way too much coolant, and he's not going to get better without more. His temperature's out of control. And you said his systems are going to start failing if-"

"Alright," Geordi said calmly. "Okay, we're doing this."

. . . . .

Riker and Deanna managed to keep Alexander distracted, but they couldn't do much for Worf. His mind couldn't stay on his son right now. Couldn't focus on the positives. Not after today.

Only when the captain showed up, shaking hands with Alexander and clapping Will on the back, did Worf seem to wake up out of his daze. He stood to attention, adjusting his uniform.

"Sir; I apologize for my report. If you need clarification..."

Picard held up a hand; gave Worf a gentle smile.

"The report can wait as long as it needs to. How are you? How's Data?"

Worf went silent at that question. Will chimed in for him, "We haven't heard anything in a while. Door's closed until Beverly's ready for us; doctor's orders."

Picard nodded, then turned sharply to Worf. "Lieutenant, I can't begin to tell you..."

"Sir, I did what any other Starfleet officer would do. I only wish that I had been more attentive. Perhaps-"

"Do not blame yourself for this, Mr. Worf," Picard said clearly, looking the Klingon right in the eye. "Do you understand me? This is not your fault. You are the only reason Data has a fighting chance."

Worf blushed slightly. "Aye, sir," he said quietly.

"Will, Deanna; I do need both of you on the bridge, if you're available."

They each gave Worf another pat on the back, another smile, and then left him alone with Alexander. Releasing a sigh, he sat back on the lonely bench. Gestured for his son to join him. And together, the two Rozhenkos waited for news.

. . . . .

Geordi carefully treaded a portion of tubing into Data's healed fluid storage compartment. He looked a lot better, without coolant leaking out of his torso. But they all knew that to be misleading. His systems were starting to overheat, an issue that had already fried a few of the finer motor control synapses in his delicate positronic brain.

That was one thing: Geordi could fix those later without a problem. Data could relearn how to play piano, or hold a pencil. But if anything vital overheated...

"We're ready to go, doc," Geordi murmured, setting his hand on Data's as Beverly took her place on the opposite side of the table.

"Good work, Geordi." She checked the unit one last time; made some calculations in her PADD. "Alright, start the transfusion. 10 ccs, to start."

They watched with bated breath as the coolant made its way into Data's body.

The reaction was instant, though not positive. His arms and legs jerked suddenly. Then his head. His breathing hitched a few times.

Beverly chewed her bottom lip.

"Come on, Data," she pleaded.

Geordi squeezed Data's hand, watching him without blinking. He looked at the exposed left side of his torso; to the wires and tubes that ran into and out of his fragile systems. Had he made a mistake? Had they used the wrong coolant, or delivered it to the wrong place?

"Geor-Geor-Geordi," Data suddenly stuttered, eyes flickering into life.

Geordi was by his head in an instant.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?"

"The coolant must be below the freezing point of water during transfusion." He gasped again, eyes rolling nauseatingly.

Geordi felt his nerves on the very edge. "W-what should we do? Should we remove what we've already added?" His head was screaming at him. He should know this stuff! He had been Data's engineer for nearly ten years; he should be an expert by now!

"N-n-n..." Data's head slackened off to the side, eyes slipping shut, just as the monitors began buzzing like crazy.

"Damnit!" Beverly shouted, shutting off the transfusion tube. "Someone go replicate coolant below 0°C."

"How much below-?"

"Now!"

She breathed deeply for a moment, leaning on the table. Geordi watched the monitors; watched the heart rate drop to zero, as well as the breath monitor. Watched system after system overheat.

"Don't do this to us, Data," he begged his friend, running his hand across Data's feverish forehead.. "Come on, stay with us. Not today." Not ever.

The technician returned with the proper coolant, at the proper temperature, and got a muttered apology from Beverly. Then the operation began again, with the new coolant sliding down the tube into Data's body.

Geordi crouched by Data's head, stroking his hair. He felt done for the day. Exhausted and ready to pass out as soon as this whole thing was over. As soon as Data was alright.

Beverly was at her wit's end, too. Ready to sleep for about a week, if not longer. She'd always faced tough situations, yes; that was the life of a Starfleet doctor. But it didn't usually hit this close to home.

"Geordi," she breathed, watching the monitors.

He leapt up to find some of Data's systems coming back online. His heart beat. Then he breathed in a gasp of air. The monitors quieted, and then stopped beeping altogether, as Data returned to the land of the living.

Beverly let out a sigh of relief, wiping her brow. The technicians clapped for her. Hell, Geordi clapped for her. But she didn't feel up to celebrating. Instead, she sat in a chair by the wall with her head resting on her hand.

Geordi stayed by Data's side, clutching his hand in his own. He stroked his hair; wiped the remaining tears off of his face.

"Data?"

Data's head shifted. His eyes struggled open, blurred vision making his eyebrows furrow.

"Geordi," he sighed.

Geordi squeezed his hand again. Smiled wide. "Hey buddy. You're okay."

"For a moment..." Data started, and then blinked another tear into his eye. It ran down his cheek; dripped onto the table below.

"Hey, it's okay." Geordi pulled his head toward his own, so that their foreheads touched. "Everything's okay now."

They stayed like that for a while, as everyone in the room got their breath back. Let their adrenaline drop back to normal. Lived in the simple joy of a day that could have been worse.

In time, Data was cleaned up. Given a pillow and a blanket. Checked over and over again by Geordi and the technicians alike.

Throughout it all, Beverly sat by the wall and counted her blessings. It wasn't often that they came close to losing one of their senior officers; especially not Data. He was such a constant on the Enterprise, as if it wouldn't and couldn't be the same ship without him. But as her adrenaline dropped and tiredness won out, her mind calmed into a more joyful state.

As Geordi checked Data's brain functions for the fifth time, Beverly suddenly jumped up with an exclamation. She hurried out into the hallway, and when she returned, Worf was trailing behind her.

"I'll be just outside," Geordi said, patting Data's hand.

He, Beverly, and the medical staff disappeared to give the two men some privacy. Beverly snatched up a portable monitor, for her own peace of mind, and then shut the door behind their party.

Alone, Worf suddenly found himself without anything to say. Everything he'd been thinking, out there in the hallway, seemed awkward now that he was standing in front of Data. He folded his hands in front of himself as his eyes glazed over his former commanding officer.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, when he realized he had been staring for a bit too long.

"I believe I will be fully healed within a few days."

Worf nodded. After another awkward pause, he added, "That is good to hear."

They stared into space for another full minute. Then Worf deflated.

"I regret that I was unable to prevent your injury," he admitted. "Though the captain seems to think I am being too hard on myself."

Data cocked his head to the side. "The captain is correct. It was impossible for you to have been able to predict the future, which would have been necessary to avert such a sudden attack."

Worf smiled. That was the Data he was used to. "It is good to see you again, commander."

"It is good to see you as well, commander Worf."

Worf tilted his head; clapped Data on the shoulder. "I believe Alexander would like to see you. Would that be alright?"

"Yes, of course."

Data sat up as much as he could on the awkward table, as Worf went out to collect his son. When they returned, Data and Alexander both shared a smile.

"Mr. Data!" Alexander ran over with his arms wide, but paused sheepishly before he made contact.

"It is alright," Data assured, holding his arms out for a hug. "The external injury is healed."

They shared a long hug, as Worf watched proudly from the sidelines.

"Mr. Data?" Alexander asked, as he pulled away. "Are you really alright?"

Data cocked his head to the side. "Mostly, yes. But many of my systems are still rebooting. I may need a few days to regain fine motor skills, as well as voice cantaloupe."

Alexander chuckled. "What?"

Data's brows furrowed. "Voice control. It seems that my voice box overheated during the toboggan."

Alexander laughed again, though Data could not understand what was so humorous. Worf patted his son on the back. "We should get back to our quarters. There is much packing to be done before our departure tomorrow."

Data frowned slightly at the news. "You are leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes, Alexander needs to resume his studies. And I need to resume my duties." He paused, and then shook Data's hand firmly. "It has been an honor serving with you once again, my friend."

"Likewise."

They shared a long look. Worf patted Data's hand again, and then led Alexander toward the door.

"Worf?" Data called suddenly.

"Yes?"

Data smiled softly. "Thank you for saving my life."

Worf blushed; turned to the floor. But he forced himself to look up again. Directly into those shining yellow eyes.

"Yours is a life worth saving." He smiled. "Rest well."

They nodded. Shared one more long look.

And then Worf led Alexander back to their quarters, exhausted but overwhelmed with joy that his friend was alright. No, more than friend: brother. It would be a long time before Worf would fully recover from the stress of today. But for now, everyone being alive was enough. Being back on the Enterprise for another night was enough.

Feeling proud of himself and his work today...was enough.